


Gohya's Ghost

by Knightqueen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Family, Gen, Loss of Limbs, Male Friendship, Physical Disability, Platonic Relationship, Rating: PG13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightqueen/pseuds/Knightqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Reposted 03.03.07] [ONE SHOT] Anakin Skywalker isn't coping well with the loss of his arm. His durasteel arm feels more like a hindrance than a replacement. Can Obi Wan help him come to grips with his new reality? Post AOTC. [Originally Posted 03.01.07]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gohya's Ghost

**Rating:**  K  
**Genre:**  Drama/General  
**Warning(s):**  Mild Language.  
**Timeline:**  Post-AOTC/ _Battle of Geonosis_ ; Pre- _Battle of Rhen Var._  
**Characters:**  Obi-Wan Kenobi (34? - 35?); Anakin Skywalker (19); Various.  
**Summary:**  Based on the real-life occurrence of Phantom Pain/Limb; Anakin Skywalker isn't coping well with Truth; His mechanical arm feels more like a hindrance than a replacement.  
**Disclaimer:** _Star Wars_  and all recognizable characters and trademarks are property of George Lucas/LucasFilm and 20th Century Fox. All Rights Reserved. The story and all original characters (or things) are property of the Author ( _all rights reserved_ ).

**Authors Note:**  This is my first Star Wars Fanfiction written since 2003. Even though Anakin is pretty well adjusted to the mechanical arm in the films, I always wondered what it was like when he didn't have it and afterward, when he had to adjust to it (though I'm sure it was no struggle as depicted here). I was never sure of Obi-Wan's age; if he was indeed thirty-five years of age in the movie or thirty-four. 35 always sticks to my mind whenever watching  _Attack of the clones._  Also, my mind might be working like a mirror-reflection; Did Anakin loose his right or left arm? As for other canonical errors, I apologize in advance; I'm not well endowed with  _Star Wars_  knowledge ( _though I know a lot more from five years ago!_ ); just the basics and what I read in the novell(as). Lastly, I have no real ideal of how "Phantom Pain" really works; All that is shown in this story is based on the information I looked up, embellished for the purposes of this story only. I mean not to offend anyone. **No Flames (crass and rude alike). Constructive criticism only.**

* * *

The battle with Dooku had ended as fast as it had begun. Anakin's mind had no time to recover from the Force shove the Count had used against him and his right arm paid dearly for it. As Anakin skid across the ground and halted against Obi-Wan's legs, he failed to realize what he lost. Denial shoved the truth into the deepest regions of his mind and proceeded to feed him only what he wanted to know. His body convulsed and his right arm twitched as his fingers flexed in an attempt to quell the pain stemming from it. Where was his lightsaber? His eyes blinked in sync with his flexing fingers before his head rolled slightly to the side. 

Time then became blurred. He did not register the sound of the steel giving way above him, threatening to end his life in one swift blow, nor his Master shifting underneath him to look up at the large durasteel pillar halt mere inches from their bodies before being tossed aside. The next moment he remembered clearly: As his eyes refocused, he could feel his body being pulled up from the ground into a standing position, Obi-Wan's fingers seemed almost hesitant to touch his right arm. He struggled to keep himself and his Padawan steady. Their combined weight threatened to capsize them both. 

"Anakin!" His glazed eyes widened at the sight of Padme rushing toward him, blaster in hand. Anakin's heart sang praises to the Force at the sight of her, unharmed from the fall from the carrier. Euphoria swam about him the closer she got, he felt Obi-Wan shift uneasily through their bond. Why wasn't he shielding? She came to a shaky halt just out of arms reach, Padme regarded him with a quick once-over before throwing her arms around his neck. For Anakin, the embrace was too short. He found himself reaching out to keep her close but as his hand arm moved to pull her back, it met with nothing but air. However, it was not because Padme pulled away from him. 

The air was suddenly knocked from his lungs as his eyes fell on his right arm. The fabric of his tunic that hung loosely against his upper arm had clearly been severed. He expected to find an empty hand, its lightsaber missing from its vice grip. It was not so. The truth arose from the bleak corners of his mind and sought to crush denial with its bare hands. Denial struggled to maintain control over its prisoner, but truth overpowered it with the simple toying of its owners emotions and denial was no more. 

Anakin felt a part of his life-force vanish into nothing, yet it was separate from his very being. His eyes unconsciously passed over Padme's shoulder - ignoring her and Obi-Wan's worried voices which seemed to blend into one sentient being. Lying at the far end of the dim hangar was a brown stump with a pale hand attached to its body. Anakin felt his heart beat erratically against his ribcage, which only sought to remind him of the jolt of unnatural lightening that struck him earlier. A realization dawned on him. 

His arm was laying on the ground, his hand was still holding his replacement lightsaber for dear life! 

But he wasn't - his arm wasn't - ! Anakin's face twisted with horror, anger, and pain that brought his senses rushing back to reality. Dooku did this! He had marred him! But it wasn't possible!

A hoarse cry escaped his lips, he raised his arm as high as it would go and the tunic sleeve fell back to reveal the stump that was once his lanky right arm. The ground rushed up to meet him when his legs buckled under him, the upheaval of what little food he had eaten on Naboo drowned out another cry. He gagged on the bile that climbed up his throat until another spasm brought it spilling out of him. Anakin's battered pride shuddered at the amount of weakness he was displaying in front of his master - in front of Pamde! Yet his body nor heart did not care. 

The world was on an unstable axis as Obi-Wan and Padme pulled him up from the ground and laid him on his side. His world was nothing but blotches of paint and disproportionate figures which continued in vain to get his attention. Silence drummed harshly in his ears crushing his eardrums. The buildup of pressure was enough to make him scream. Soft and callous hands pawed frantically over his face, chest and shoulders. He shuddered inwardly at their touch, they were like ice to his burning skin. 

/Stay with me, Anakin. . . .stay with me. . ./ The voice was unfamiliar, weak, and harsh in his ears. 

"Get a medivac here as fast you can! Go now!" 

"Right away, ma'am!" 

/What I am thinking, he just lost an arm! Of course -/

Denial reared its ugly head; "I didn't loose my arm! I didn't! Its right here - it's right here!" Anakin howled in fury at the phantom. 

* * *

Anakin awoke to the dull sounds of Coruscant nightlife outside the window of his bedroom in the apartment he shared with Obi-Wan. Pulling himself into an upright position he pulled back his covers and placed his feet on the soft carpet below him. He regarded his hands through the blur of sleep. The palms faced him, his skin felt dry and taut from the lack of moisture. A smile graced his features at the sight of two pale, healthy hands greeting him in the glow emitting from his bedroom window. Blinking once or twice he refocused his gaze on his hands again. They were now missing their ethereal glow. Instinctively, his left hand went to message the lower part of his right arm - or what remained of it. Just below the flesh resided his replacement, whose skeletal fingers twitched and flexed lazily on their own will power, ignoring his every command.

Bant Erein, a longtime friend of his Master's, explained that the pain he felt in his arm would deminish gradually over time. The nervous system that was now fully attached to the dursasteel arm would take time to recognize the arm's artificial nervous system as part of its own. Anakin was never known for his patience and the transition his body was dealing with daily was wearing his resolve thin. A shuddering breath escaped his lips for the first time that night. Rising from the bed he exited his bedroom and ventured without caution into the living room. The messaging patterns of his fingers upon his skin were beginning to have little effect on the throbbing in his arm now, it irked Anakin to no end.

When he first woke from his unconscious state, in a Medical Wing of a hospital on the nearest available planet before they returned to Coruscant, he was hysterical. Padme was absent, most likely in another part of the hospital altogether and the only  _familiar_  person present in his room was Master Yoda. The wizened master placed him under a Force-induced slumber that he did not awake from until two days later. The pain was unbearable even then. The painkiller pumping through his IV did nothing, his connection to the Force was unsteady, preventing his ability to block the pain off. Even Obi-Wan, who was laid up in bed next him, was of little use of waning the pain off for he was in his own hazy word of agony. The painkillers numbed all others pains save the one in his arm.

* * *

"Anakin, something's bothering you," Obi-Wan stated rather than inquired. 

Anakin looked over to his master who laid awkwardly on the sleepcouch instead of his bed next to Anakin. His brow furrowed as he exhaled heavily. "My, uh - my arm hurts," Anakin whispered hoarsely. 

"Which . . . which one?" The Knight slurred. 

Anakin's mouth trembled as he tried to find the right words. "You wouldn't understand," He responded weakly. 

"T-try . . . try me." 

* * *

Their conversation stopped there. Obi-Wan fell victim to his own sedative only seconds before Anakin did. The grin on Anakin's face lasted only for a moment, another jab of pain traveled down his arm, pulling him back to the present. His mechanical hand's grip wrapped itself around the window ledge and the plaster was crushed under the sheer amount of force. Chunks of plaster fell to the ground without hindrance, Anakin couldn't care less. He had damaged yet another 'something' inside the apartment. Next to the dozen sets of broken dinnerware (plates and cups), a cracked window ledge was hardly anything to fret over.

He wouldn't put it past Obi-Wan not to give him a lecture on controlling his "Blasted droid arm" though, even if it was in jest. It was understandable. His master had had a nasty experience with his mechanical arm as well. During one of their saber practices Anakin had reached out and grabbed his Master's wrist to block Obi-Wan's hand that wielded his lightsaber and almost crushed his wrist. And all because he had experienced yet another pain, which caused his mechanical hand to squeeze a little  _too_  hard. As always, Anakin was quick to apologize, but Obi-Wan didn't hold it against him. He simply wondered why he hadn't mastered the mechanical appendage yet.

* * *

"You usually overcome situations like this, is all I'm saying, Padawan," Obi-Wan had explained in his usual manner, though the waver in his voice indicated he was trying to tread lightly. Anakin had been quicker to anger lately, he understood (to an extent) why. He continued to rub his bruising wrist. 

"This is different," Anakin answered hotly. "I still had  _two_  arms in those kinds of situations. And this arm . . . it's not listening to me, it's listening to my pain!"

"You still have two arms, Padawan. You shouldn't let the fact that you've lost part of yourself control your actions from here on out, Anakin," Obi-Wan chided softly, speaking as though he had not heard the last of Anakin's sentence. "Your loss is not a handicap -" 

"Don't preach about what you don't know, Obi-Wan! You try loosing an arm and saying that!" Anakin snapped, shoving the older man. The knight stumbled backward managing to maintain his footing. His blue eyes locked gazes with Anakin's, rimmed with disappointment.

* * *

Anakin hated how Obi-Wan made his every action, his un-Jedi like behavior, feel so wrong when it felt justifiable to him. It wasn't right! He had no business talking about his _handicap_ like it was something he experienced first hand. A lightsaber to the leg was nothing to compared to this. Anakin glowered at the illuminated world behind the transparasteel window before him. With the galaxy's medical advances, a replacement for any amputated limb wasn't an impossibility, but it wasn't the same as the real thing. There was always a void that behaved as though there was still a lower arm and hand attached to it, moving along with the rest of his body like it had since the day of his birth. Swallowing against the rising anger twisting in his chest, Anakin ventured into the kitchen for a drink. He was careful to use his left hand to get the things he needed now. At the moment his mechanical limb was at ease against his side, his fingers tapping lightly against the end of his nightshirt.

Guiding himself through the darkness, he plunked down into one the chairs at the dinner table and poured the vibrantly colored beverage into his cup. Setting the container down beside him, he paused to ponder the shimmering jawa juice, unaware of the approaching figure, who's limp was not as bad as it had been since he returned to the Jedi temple. Anakin raised the glass to his mouth swallowing a hefty amount of the jawa juice, he regarded the ceiling for barely a minute when a surge of familiar energy washed over him in a soothing manner. Anakin sighed pleasantly at the calm that swirled inside him now. He hadn't felt  _this_  calm since he had been with Padme on Naboo. Since the day of their marriage. A secret smile crossed his chapped lips at the thought of his wife. She had yet to return.

* * *

" When are you scheduled to return to Coruscant?" He whispered in the nape of her neck. Padme shifted on the edge of her bed which she now shared with Anakin, a dreamy smile crossed her face. She sat between his legs as she brushed her hair in preparation for sleep. Granted, it was a silly ritual, her hair was going to look less than graceful in the morning, but it was a habit not easily broken. "In a month or so. I have to finish some business with the Nubian delegates here," She said. "There's a lot to go over now." Padme frowned. Anakin regarded the solemn expression that graced her beautiful features. Ever since their departure of Geonosis, Padme had been rather distant and closed-off. 

Anakin knew it was because she believed she failed to prevent all too inevitable war from becoming a reality, because she was absent when the Senate went over the Military Creation Act she and several others were opposed to. Padme blamed herself for the events that had come to pass, as much ObI-Wan blamed himself for wounded and lost comrades, or the welfare of his Padawan. Anakin bristled slightly. Unlike his master, Anakin could take of himself without the need of assistance. Obi-Wan was just danger-prone whereas Anakin wasn't.

As for Padme? Well, Padme was just accident-prone. Things happened around her that are out of her control, and she suffered because of it. He did not like to see Padme suffer, especially needlessly. Carefully, he placed his skeletal hand upon hers and squeezed lightly. "Don't worry Padme. If there's anyone I know who can stop this war from becoming worse than it already is, its you and the Chancellor," He assured. The conviction and faith behind his words was more than enough to get his wife to glow and smile once more. 

Her hand squeezed back in equal affection. "Thank you, Anakin. You always know just what to - ah!" Padme's pained gasp had Anakin on the defensive. Padme bit down on her lip as her right hand came over to her left - currently clenched in Anakin's hand and grabbed one of his fingers. "Anakin. Anakin your hand - it's hurting me," Her words barely came above a whisper. Anakin's body tensed even more. Frantically, he concentrated all his efforts into getting his hand to release Padme's. After a minute it finally did, Padme jerked her hand away and proceeded to examine her fingers.

Anakin let the arm fall to the side while he took a hold of her wrist and brought up to eye level for inspection. Its was unharmed, for now. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, he could not believe he had just hurt Padme! "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, Padme," Anakin stammered, as Padme shushed him, her hands upon his face. "Anakin, I'm fine, really. Don't worry about," She said, a nervous smile gracing her features. 

* * *

"Anakin, what are you doing up at this hour?" Obi-Wan's voice did nothing to betray the man had just woke up. Anakin turned his gaze toward his master, Obi-Wan stood in the middle of the doorway, his hair disheveled mess sticking off in every direction, his night clothes wrinkled from his twisting and turning about on the mattress. The Jedi knight stared at him through the slits of his eyes, thankful that the apprentice had left the lights off in the kitchen at least. A raging headache was not something one irritated any further with light more than necessary. Anakin sent a smile in his wary master's direction as knocked back the last of his drink. "Couldn't sleep," He answered stiffly. Obi-Wan seemed to pause at the response, recovered just as quickly. "Is it your arm again?" He inquired.

Anakin grunted as he rose from his chair. "Ah. I'll take that as a "yes" then," Obi-Wan answered dryly. "What is it doing this time?" Anakin resorted to simply glaring at his master, he placed his cup in the sink with a sigh. The weariness he had been fighting back for so long was now beginning to creep up on him. His hand clenched down hard on the rim of the sink bending its structure only slightly. He damaged yet another household item. The pent up frustrations that been escaping with every move he made finally broke free of the young man's feeble restraints. Anakin's fist collided with the faucet breaking it away from the rest of the sink, he let out a cry of frustration grabbing the broken faucet from out of the bowl and tossing it across the room.

The faucet struck the wall with enough strength to leave an intention behind before clattering to the floor. Anakin sought to grab something else to hurl across the room, however, Obi-Wan at his side in an instant, restraining the young man by the wrists. "Let of me, Master! Let go!" He bellowed, his face growing red from exertion. Obi-Wan held his ground fighting his student every step of the way as he attempted to break away from him. "Padawan, calm down! Please! It's too early for this kind of foolishness!" Kenobi implored, his headache growing worse with every passing moment.

Anakin was deaf to the plead in his voice, his struggles grew more feeble the longer he resisted Obi-Wan. Foolishness, ha! Obi-Wan had some nerve! Anakin suddenly found himself pinned against the wall, Obi-Wan released his wrists and now his hands clutching the upper part of his arms, keeping them close at his side. Anger thrummed like a swelling fire inside his chest, he glowered at the man who had raised him since after his victory in space above Naboo, the man he considered his brother.

With his last bout of strength, fueled by his anger, he struggled against Obi-Wan's hold and when he the man didn't budge, Anakin's foot found his leg; He kicked as hard as he could and Obi-Wan nearly fell over. "Ahh!" Obi-Wan bit his tongue at the surge of pain that spiked up his leg through his spine. His grip fell away from Anakin's arms, he hopped over to the table and fell gracelessly into the seat Anakin had once been sitting in. In that moment, Anakin's anger burned out, the oxygen it had been feeding off blocked by the sudden cessation that sought to stop it. He stayed against the wall with his shoulders slouched. His mouth moved wordlessly trying to form some sort of verbal sound.

All that came out was a hoarse, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - I won't do it again!" Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed in mild irritation at boy, he exhaled shakily regarding his throbbing leg, the pain was slowly ebbing at a gradual pace as he released it into the Force. Placing an elbow on the surface of the table he scrubbed his face which only succeeded in reminded him of the bed that awaited him in his bedroom.

Anakin's broken voice, however, brought his thoughts back to the present. "It's, just this - arm! Its been a month and four weeks and it hasn't done what Master Erein told me it would! Its not listening to me! I can't control this stupid thing, I hate it!" Anakin's voice rose as he spoke, his flesh hand clenched in a trembling fist. Obi-Wan took a moment to look up from his throbbing leg at Anakin. "Well, throwing tantrums is not going to help, Padawan," Was Obi-Wan's calm response. "It's not becoming of a Jedi."

"I know!" Anakin snarled. "Don't you think I know that?" The Padawan pushed away from the wall stepping forward, his eyes flashed dangerously with unbidden frustration. There wasn't much Obi-Wan could do at this point. He would attempt to calm his apprentice down, he always did, but history taught him that he could only manage to quell the beast that was Anakin's negative emotions.

He never truly suppressed them and Anakin clearly never took his advice about releasing such feelings into the Force. In the end, nothing he said helped and it would be up to Anakin to deal with his emotions, perhaps, actually take his teachings to heart one day and rid himself of the anger he clung to unconsciously. Do you? Do you really know? Honestly, I wonder sometimes, was the thought that ran through the subconscious of the Knight.

He thought better of it though and held his tongue. Obi-Wan swallowed against the tightness in his throat, he continued to watch his Padawan pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor trying to hold back the remainder of his negative emotions churning inside him like a raging storm. "Come here, Padawan," Obi-Wan's tone was neither harsh nor patronizing, it made Anakin halt clumsily.

His hardened blue eyes locked onto Obi-Wan's, the expression on the man's face was placid and with one gesture of his hand Anakin found himself stumbling over to his master. The young man fell to his knees before Obi-Wan- his lips remained parted allowing shallow breaths to pass, slowly his eyes raised to meet Obi-Wan's gaze again. Through the darkness Kenobi regarded his Padawan's haggard face, the defeated look he now adopted over his usual confident demeanor. His eyes were glazed with the fatigue and unshed tears.

Whether or not Obi-Wan found it disconcerting, the knight was unsure, though he would not deny that this rare show of anguish was somewhat refreshing from the norm. "I know you're tired of hearing this, Anakin, but, you must have patience. You must believe that this will get better with time. If there is something wrong with your arm then we will go see Bant or Dr. Ja'velin on Maurelia, and see if there anything we can do about this possible malfunction," Obi-Wan explained calmly. Anakin seemed convinced by his master's words. Gingerly he grasped Obi-Wan's hand which laid upon his shoulder.

Then slowly, surely, the reconstructed aura of compliance and assurance crumbled with a simple grimace. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan whispered. Anakin was lost in his own world of pain unaware of his master's voice, his brow wrinkled while his eyes wandered aimlessly. Below him, Obi-Wan could hear the frenetic whirrs of Anakin's durasteel fingers. Glancing upward at his stricken Padawan, he attempted once more to reach him. /Anakin?/

"It still hurts, Master," Was the husky response. Anakin's braid slid off his shoulder behind him as his head lowered to such a point that his chin touched above his collar bone. "What does?" The Jedi knight squeezed the boy's shoulder, his Padawan's anxieties were beginning to grow on him, throwing off the calm he managed to secure for himself. Anakin gave him a look that clearly said 'you should know' yet there was no recognition in Kenobi's face that indicated he knew what Skywalker was referring to. And if he did, he said nothing that betrayed such knowledge.

"My arm," Anakin answered as a-matter-of-fact. "I know part of it is not there, Master, truly. But I wake up every day seeing, feeling, this hand, this normal hand. And for a moment I'm whole again," The Padawan paused dramatically his eyes wandering the calloused fingers than held Obi-Wan's. "Only to wake up to the truth. That there is no hand, just its cold replacement." There was a mixture of disgust and acceptance in the young man's face, he exhaled heavily resting his forehead upon Obi-Wan's knee.

"Anakin," There was a weariness in Obi-Wan's voice that hadn't been heard throughout the duration of their conversation. Anakin stiffened slightly at the sensation of Obi-Wan's hand upon his head. "This will take time to adjust to. I cannot say I know what your going through, I cannot in good conscience lie to you either. I will help you through this ordeal, I promise you. It's all can I offer. You must accept this fate as your reality."

Anakin unconsciously let the words sink into his soul allowing their reality to chill him to the bone. The truth lacked what he really wanted to hear. Denial coddled him with the fantasy that this entire ordeal was a horrible nightmare he has yet to awaken from. As his Master said, he could not coddle him in good conscience, Padme would not coddle him either for her stance on the truth over fantasy would not allow her to. Palpatine wouldn't coddle him with such a lie either, however, he would make things seem less bleak in the greater scheme of things. Unlike the two people closest to him.

* * *

Anakin felt his mouth curl into a smile as the image of Chancellor Palpatine flickered into existence. Their eyes met and Palpatine smiled warmly at the young man. "I heard what happened on Geonosis, Anakin. I'm terribly sorry, my boy. Such misfortune should not have happened to one who's future is so bright," The Chancellor's voice, smooth like silk, comforting like the voice of a father, smothered Anakin's frustrations to a minimum. "What ever shall you do?" 

Anakin shrugged as though he didn't care. Despite the distance between them, the holographic image of Palpatine resting in the highback chair in his office, was a welcome reprieve from Maurelia's hospital staff. He allowed his gaze to wander the room he currently occupied. Padme sat on the sleepcouch wraped in a down blanket, sound asleep. His master was currently elsewhere with Master Yoda and Windu. 

"Will they allow you to continue your Jedi training under Master Kenobi?" Palpatine inquired. 

"Of course." Anakin's tone was clipped, an unsual tone when concerning questions from wouldn't the Jedi Council let him continue his training? "By request of the Council, I have received a replacement for . . ." He trailed off shrugging his shoulders. Raising his right arm into view, he showed the politician his durasteel replacement. "Its the latest in Maurelian technology, it fits like a glove," He rewarded Palpatine an embarrassed smile. "It feels kinda strange though." 

This was all good news indeed. Palpatine stretched his legs underneath his desk, his fingers clutched the arms of his chair until his finger nails began to bite into the leather interior. "Yes, yes, of course. It is, after all, a natural feeling, my son." The Chancellor then paused, his demeanor grew serious. Anakin leaned closer to the hologram, whenever such a mood befell Palpatine, whatever troubled him was important. "Have no fear, Anakin. You will conquer any and all obstacles in your way. Including this -  _minor_  setback."

* * *

As the Coruscanti skies began to glow with the signs of the dawn, Anakin's smile seemed to glow with returning confidence. With the memory of Palpatine's words echoing in his mind Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan's hand even harder, as if to confirm that his master's presence was still with him. It had become unusually still in the Force. He jumped at the initial twitch of his Master's fingers, looking up he found Obi-Wan's chin resting on his chest, his breathing falling into a slow and steady rhythm. Anakin's eyes flashed with momentary insult. He drifted off on him! Had his master fallen asleep off while he spoke to him? No, I was looking straight at him. His eyes were open. He must've dozed while I was occupied with my thoughts.

Satisfied with the line of thought, Anakin rose to his feet, he gave Obi-Wan's hand another tug. The man was jerked into awareness this time. Through bleary eyes he looked about him, taking in his surrounding environment before focusing on Anakin's lanky figure. Clearing his throat rather loudly, he rose slowly to his feet as well careful not to bump the table with his leg.

/You're tired, Master. Get some rest, we have no appointments to attend to. . ./ Anakin spoke attentively through their bond.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows narrowed briefly at the reminder of their leave of duties while recovering from their battle with Count Dooku. "No, no. I'm all right Anakin. Besides," The Jedi Knight grinned. "I couldn't go to sleep now even if I wanted to." Anakin found himself chuckling at his Master's attempt of lightening the mood. It was a welcome reprieve from what they had discussed not a minute ago.

He did not argue any further on the issue of his master's getting sleep. All that would come of it would be a light reprimand and awkward silence afterward. Anakin placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, once more his face grew serious. Determination hardened in his features as he spoke. "I will overcome this, I promise. I won't let you down this time, Master," The nineteen-year-old proclaimed.

The sound of the renewed strength in his Padawan's voice made Obi-Wan smile. You have never let me down, Padawan.

* * *

(FIN)

* * *

**Written: 2/24/07**

**Completed: 2/28/07**

**Updated: 2/21/16**


End file.
